A man with bushy gray hair and a gold hoop in his left ear sidled up to the seat on my right. He's a special-ed teacher in North Las Vegas who'd come from Cincinnati after funding for education was cut. He and a buddy share a bachelor pad. He talked about being alone.
"I'm alone," I told him, "but I'm not lonely."
"Hey, that'd be a good first line for a song," he said. "Punk or country?